Neville's story
by coffeeaddict91
Summary: The unseen life of Neville Longbottom. Keeping to canon during his Hogwarts years, but changing after Graduation. Keeping to the books in the beginning, some from the movies from GOF on. Rated T for now, just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters belong to the lovely JK Rowling, I just borrow them from time to time. I make no profit from this story.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was many things. Clumsy, forgetful, shy, untalented... the list could go on. Everyone in his family knew he could never measure up to the memory of his parents. Frank and Alice Longbottom were well-known Aurors and were loved by so many people. But Neville? He was nothing like them and he knew it. And while he knew his family cared for him, his Gran was not a kind woman. And his great aunt Enid and uncle Algie... he knew they were all disappointed in his lack of magic. They said he was likely a squib since he'd yet to show any magic whatsoever. And that word alone was enough to break what little bit of self-confidence he had. He tried telling his Gran about some of the magical things he was certain he'd done, but she just waved a hand and dismissed it. So he stopped trying to tell her about the curtains in his room opening themselves or the light turning itself off at night. Perhaps it wasn't magic he was doing after all.

* * *

When he was seven, his family took to trying to force a bit of magic out of him. He wound up injured more often than not, and not a single spark of magic came out. He was changing his soaking wet clothes in his room, his head down. Once dressed, he looked at the mirror on the wall, tears in his eyes. He wondered briefly if other young squibs had to endure the tests he was constantly put through. He'd nearly drowned when his uncle pushed him off of the pier. He just wished they'd quit and accept it. He was just never going to live up to his parents' legacy. A single tear fell, and he brushed it away, sitting down on his bed. A house-elf popped in to take his wet clothes, and he let her do so, not saying a word.

"Neville, get back down here!" his grandmother's voice called. "We must be going."

With a sigh, Neville stood up. He wiped his tears away. They were going to visit his parents at the hospital. He didn't want them to see his tears. He was convinced that they would still wake up. His mum had taken to giving him bubble gum wrappers lately. So that must be a good sign!

"Coming, Gran." He took hold of her hand before stepping with her through the floo.

* * *

Neville shrieked. His uncle had surprised him again. He'd brought him to the window to show him something, and the next thing Neville knew, he was dangling by his ankle out the window. "Please!" he cried out. "Help me!"

"Come on, Neville!" his uncle said happily. "Pull yourself back in! Use that magic! Come on now, boy. Your father could've done it!"

Neville tried to reach the window ledge, but he couldn't quite do it. "I can't! Help me!"

"Not a chance, boy," his uncle replied. "Come on, I'm waiting! Do us proud!"

Neville struggled to reach the window. He knew by now that he had no chance of doing it magically, his family was right about him. He just wished they'd stop doing things like this to him. He'd accepted his lack of magic. Why couldn't they?

He wasn't expecting it, though, when his uncle started speaking to someone else in the room. He couldn't see who, though it could only be his Gran or his Aunt Enid. They never had other visitors, after all. And after a moment, Neville felt his uncle's hand release his ankle. He screamed as he fell from the window. Neville tried to brace himself as the ground got closer and closer. He squeezed his eyes shut as he hit the ground and... he bounced upward once again. Several times he bounced, each time not as high as the last. As he finally stopped moving, he lay there shaking. What had just happened? He should be in pain from the fall. But... he wasn't. He was just shaken up.

His grandmother came running down the path, tears running down her face and a proud smile on her face. His aunt and uncle were close behind her, also smiling.

"Oh, Neville!" she cried as he sat up, confused. Why was she so happy? She never used that look with him. "Neville, you wonderful boy! My grandson! A wizard! Thank Merlin!" She reached down, helping him to his feet and pulling him into a tight embrace. "Your parents would be so proud, Neville! So very proud!"

He felt his uncle and aunt embrace the two as well. And he felt so proud of himself. He had magic after all. Maybe... maybe someday he could live up to his parents' legacy after all. He still doubted it, of course, but... maybe he had a chance.

* * *

Neville stabbed at his eggs, pushing them around on his place. It was his eleventh birthday and today... Today was the day. Either the letter would come or it wouldn't. And that thought stopped him from being hungry at all. He felt sick. Was it supposed to come early in the day? Or would he have to wait until dinner? Or... would he go to sleep tonight knowing that he didn't have enough magic to make it into Hogwarts?

There was a tap on the window and Neville jumped to his feet. "Gran! The post is here!" he said excitedly.

"Probably the daily prophet," his grandmother replied. Neville's face fell instantly, and he dropped back into his chair and stopped pretending to eat, staring instead at his plate. Ever since the incident with Neville bouncing down the lawn, he'd hoped to be able to some other magic. But to no avail. And it was clear that his grandmother believed the same as he did: he wouldn't be accepted into Hogwarts. She rose and went to the window, letting the owl perch on the window sill as she pulled the newspaper from its grasp. "As expected," she said, paying the owl and heading back to the table. "The Bulgarian Quidditch team has gotten a new Seeker," she said offhandedly as she flipped through the paper, ignoring her grandson's gloomy face. "Doesn't look good for England this year."

A second owl swooped through the window, landing on Neville's shoulder. He stared at it as it offered him its leg. There was a scroll tied to its leg. Neville just stared at the scroll, too afraid to be excited.

"Take the letter, Neville!" his grandmother said sharply. "Don't just sit there staring!"

Neville jumped slightly and removed the scroll. The bird flew off instantly. He turned the scroll in his hands. Sure enough... the wax seal was the emblem of Hogwarts. His eyes flew to his grandmother, who was watching him as well.

"Open it, Neville," she said softly, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it.

His shaking fingers slid under the seal, breaking it. He unrolled it and started to read. "D-Dear Mr. L-Longbottom," he said in a shaking voice. "We are p-pleased to inform you that... that..." He grinned widely. "Gran, I got in! I got into Hogwarts!"

His grandmother smiled, reaching across for the parchment and read it herself. "So you did," she said, pride in her eyes. "So you did. Go upstairs and get dressed. Time for a trip to London."

Neville smiled at her. "We've got to go tell mum and dad the good news!" he said. He didn't tell her what he was thinking. That maybe this would be enough to make them remember him. Now that he'd proven himself worth remembering.

Her smile faded slightly, but she nodded regardless. "And you need your school supplies as well," she said. "We can go to St. Mungo's first if you wish to."

Neville nodded excitedly, rushing upstairs and getting dressed. As he crossed the living room, though, his grandmother called to him from the hallway. He followed her to the room he knew had belonged to his parents. He rarely came in here, not wanting to disturb anything.

"I have something for you, Neville," his grandmother said quietly, pulling a long, thin package from a drawer. "This was your father's. He... I'm sure he would be proud for you to carry it now."

Neville held the box carefully, not wanting to drop it or break it. She was giving him something of his father's. He opened it gently. Inside was a wand. He picked it up gently, holding it reverently. "Are you sure, Gran?" he whispered, staring at her with wide eyes. "Dad was a great wizard, and I..."

"You will be as well one day," his grandmother said. "I won't hear another word about it. Come along. Put your wand back in the box. I won't have you using it until you're taught how to do so. I won't have you breaking it." She took the box from him and led him out of the room, staring into the room another moment before closing it, locking it with her wand.

"Do you have mum's wand as well?" Neville asked softly.

"No," his grandmother answered immediately. "It was broken in the fight when Lestrange tried using it against her." Neville flinched, but his grandmother didn't seem to notice. "It was found in pieces in that woman's hand. Now come along, Neville. There is quite a bit to do today."

* * *

Neville clenched his hand around the bubble gum wrapper in his hand, tears in his eyes. He'd been so sure that once they heard about his letter, they'd remember him. At least for a second. He had wanted to hear them tell him they were proud of him. But it was no good. His father hadn't even looked at him. And his mother just smiled that same blank smile she always gave and pressed the wrapper into his hand.

"Come along, Neville," his grandmother said quietly, laying a hand on her grandson's shoulder. As Neville was telling his parents about the letter, his eyes lit up and a smile on his face, he knew she was watching him. He looked up and she turned away quickly. But he'd seen the tears in her eyes.

He used to tell himself that they would remember him one day. That once he proved himself, that they would come back to him and his Gran. But no. Today proved him wrong. They would never remember him. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. They were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Neville woke early on September 1st, excitement and dread battling it out inside him. He dressed in his school clothes, though not his robes or hat yet, and descended the stairs headed for the kitchen. The house-elf placed a plate in front of him, but he couldn't eat. He felt too sick. He dreaded the sorting... No one had ever told him how that happened. He'd scanned a few textbooks, Magical Theory and Hogwarts, A History especially, but neither of them mentioned the sorting. Nor would anyone else tell him anything about the process. Would they expect him to do some kind of magic? He'd yet to use his father's wand... He knew he'd fail if there was any kind of test. He was practically a squib. The letter meant he had magic... that didn't necessarily mean he could use it though.

He looked up as his grandmother sat across from him. "You'll be on the train a long time, Neville," she said. "Eat."

He picked up his fork, but still couldn't bring himself to eat. He was afraid he'd be sick if he did.

"Oh, very well," his grandmother said, annoyed. "Go make sure you've got everything you need. Books, clothes, wand, and everything else."

Neville stood quickly, nearly knocking over his chair. He flushed as his grandmother sighed. He made his way upstairs, opening his new trunk to make sure everything was accounted for. His father's wand. His textbooks. Parchment, quills, and ink... Several sets of his uniform, socks, shoes, and robes. Some extra treats for his toad, Trevor... He was certain he had everything. He scooped up Trevor and set him on his shoulder. He closed his trunk and started pulling it toward the door. How he'd get it down the stairs, he had no idea. But his grandmother beat him to it. "Oh, Neville, honestly," she said, pointing her wand at the trunk. It shrunk to pocket-sized and zoomed into his pocket. He flushed, looking away. Did she expect him to be able to do that already? He doubted he would ever be able to do it, but especially now!

"Come along, Neville," his grandmother said, leading Neville back downstairs and to the fireplace. "You know what to do. Platform 9 & 3/4, King's Cross," she reminded him.

Neville scooped up some floo powder with a sigh. He hated traveling by floo. But it was better than when his Gran brought him through side-along apparition, so he wouldn't complain. Besides, it had been a few months since he'd fallen out of the fireplace... he was getting better at it. He tucked Trevor into his pocket, not wanting to lose him. "Platform 9 & 3/4, King's Cross," Neville said, throwing the powder down and stepping in. He stumbled as he exited the fireplace, but he somehow managed to keep his footing. He took a few steps forward, his eyes widening and mouth dropping open slightly. The Hogwarts Express was everything he'd dreamed and more. But the platform... he'd never seen this many people crowded together, not even in Diagon Alley. He heard his grandmother step out behind him, not stumbling even a little bit. He felt a charm wash over him and knew she'd removed the dust and ash from his clothes. He turned to her, smiling nervously.

"Come, let's find you a seat," Augusta said, scanning the crowd. They walked past a family of redheads that Neville knew must be the Weasleys, but she led Neville past them rather than making introductions. And the nervousness Neville was feeling intensified. He didn't really know anyone he would be starting school with. He'd met a few people, obviously, but... For the most part, he'd be alone. They passed a black-haired boy who looked like he was alone. And he looked like he was Neville's age... But Neville wasn't good at talking to strangers, and he couldn't bring himself to do so now. He reached up to his shoulder with the intent to hold Trevor but realized with dread, Trever was gone. He knew he was there when he'd arrived, he'd checked.

"_Gran, I've lost my toad again_," he said, worried. He looked around frantically.

"_Oh, Neville_," she said with a sigh. "Let me. Accio Trevor." The toad zoomed into her outstretched palm from the direction of the fireplaces they'd come through. Neville smiled. "Keep track of him. I won't be there to do that on the train."

Neville took the few steps up into the train, turning to face his grandmother. "I'll write soon as I'm sorted," he said, trying to appear braver than he felt.

"See that you do, Neville," Augusta said, looking up at her grandson. "Make our family proud. Stay out of trouble. And come home safely." She felt tears prick at her eyes. So long she'd doubted this day would come. And she was so proud of Neville, but she was still afraid for his safety.

"Love you, Gran," Neville said quietly. He took the last step into the train, waving out to her as the warning whistle blew. And then she was gone, and he was alone. He felt the nervousness intensify. He looked through the window of the first compartment but found it full of older Slytherin students. He swallowed, moving down the aisle. He knew he wouldn't be a Slytherin. Hufflepuff was the most likely, even though he knew his grandmother wanted him to be a Gryffindor like his parents. The next compartment was full as well, so he continued down the aisle, peering into the compartments. Half-way down, he found a nearly empty compartment. Inside was a girl and a boy that looked close to his age. The had bushy brown hair and a book in her hand, the boy had dark brown hair and looked bored with the girl. They were already wearing their uniform, just like he was.

He knocked on the door, sliding it open slightly. "I-Is this seat t-taken?" he asked, cursing himself for stuttering.

The two looked up at him and the boy smiled. "Is now," he said, grinning at Neville. "Come on in, mate. I'm Michael. Michael Corner."

"I-I'm Neville Longbottom," Neville answered, stepping into the compartment and sitting on the edge of the seat. He pulled his shrunken trunk from his pocket and placed it in the rack. The moment it left his hand, it resized. Hermione gasped but Corner didn't seem to care one way or another. So he was used to magic. But she wasn't used to it.

The girl smiled. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm just so excited to be here! Aren't you? I was ever so pleased when I found out about Hogwarts! My parents were skeptical about magic, but Professor McGonagall convinced them in the end. And I'm so glad she did! Everything I've read about Hogwarts sounds so fascinating!"

Neville blinked. So Hermione was definitely muggle-born. She wouldn't know anything about his family. And Corner didn't seem to recognize his name either. That was good, he wouldn't have made a bad impression on him already in the past without remembering. Unless they'd heard the stories about his parents... He didn't want to have his new classmates comparing him to his parents. He'd never live up to that. And he'd rather try to make friends first. But before he could say anything further, the compartment door slid open again.

"_Anything off the cart, dears_?"

Neville pulled out a few sickles, purchasing a few pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs. Hermione looked at the candy skeptically, and she was clearly confused at what she saw. Perhaps muggle candy was different than theirs? But Michael spoke up first. "Those are the sweets," he told Hermione, pointing at the candies. "Those are more like... pies, I guess? More filling. You know how to use sickles and such yet?"

Hermione gave Corner a smile as she nodded. "Thank you," she said. "I didn't expect the foods to be different than I was used to." She purchased a couple of pumpkin pasties and a cauldron cake but avoided the candies. "My parents are dentists," she told them. "They don't like me eating too much candy. They say it's bad for you." She eyed the chocolate frogs and licorice wands that Corner had bought for himself. "It destroys your teeth."

"What's a dentist?" Neville asked, hoping to be part of the conversation. He'd never heard that word before and wondered if it was a muggle thing.

"You don't have dentists?" Hermione asked, surprised. "They are doctors that look after people's teeth."

"Doctors are muggle healers," Michael Corner told Neville, who nodded in thanks. "I grew up in both worlds. Dad's muggle-born, so one set of my grandparents are muggles. I learn a lot of muggle stuff when I go visit them."

Neville nodded again, growing nervous again. He scanned the compartment floor and seats, looking for his toad. "Have you seen my toad?" he asked, looking around. The other two shook their heads. "Oh no. He must've gotten out! I'll be back!" He left the compartment, scanning the aisles. He didn't see Trevor anywhere. He knocked on a compartment door, sliding it open. "_Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all_?" he asked the occupants. It was the youngest Weasley son and the black-haired boy he'd seen on the train. They were trading Chocolate Frog cards, it looked like. His face fell when they shook their heads. "_I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!_"

Weasley looked almost amused, and Neville swallowed. But the black-haired boy looked sympathetic. "_He'll turn up_."

"_Yes, well, if you see him..._" He left and moved on to the next compartments, asking the same questions. After a few moments, Hermione Granger tapped him on the shoulder, startling him. "I can help you look," she said. "It would be dreadful losing a pet." She moved on to the next compartment and peeked in, not bothering with knocking. "Have you seen a toad?" she asked the occupants. They hadn't.

She started back down the hall, bringing Neville with her. She slid another door open before Neville could tell her that he'd already asked the occupants. "_Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one._"

"_We've already told him we haven't seen it_," Weasley answered her. This time his wand was raised. Neville just wanted to leave. He didn't know what Weasley was doing, but he didn't want the spell to hit him. But Hermione wasn't as worried. She sat down and watched Weasley do a rather... odd-sounding spell. He flinched slightly as Hermione criticized Weasley, but the red-haired boy didn't say anything, just gave her a surprised look as she started talking about herself. That was good, Neville didn't want to be part of an argument or anything like that.

"_I'm Ron Weasley_," Weasley answered, confirming who Neville had thought he was.

"_Harry Potter_," the black-haired boy said.

Neville swallowed as Hermione started talking about all the books Potter was in. Neville's eyes landed on Potter's forehead... sure enough, the scar was there, just like lightening. He tore his eyes away from Potter's forehead... Potter didn't seem the type to like loads of attention. If he was, he wouldn't be alone here with Weasley, he'd have joined a compartment with more people in it.

"_Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon_," Hermione said, and Neville stepped out of the compartment. They passed a few other boys their age, but Neville recognized Draco Malfoy so kept walking and hoped Hermione got the hint. She seemed to. "I can't believe we'll be in classes with Harry Potter!" she said. "He seemed normal enough, though," she added. "Wonder how he did it?"

"No one knows," Neville said quietly. He'd often wondered... if Potter hadn't defeated Voldemort when he did... would his parents have suffered what they had?

"Harry Potter?" Malfoy had heard them. "Oh, it's just you, Longbottom? And who is this?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said, holding her hand out to him even though he was clearly sneering at her.

Malfoy turned his cold eyes back to Neville ignoring her. "_You_ met Potter? Where is he? I'd like a word with him."

"I-In there," Neville said, pointing to the compartment. It was common knowledge that the Malfoys had never been charged, but that they'd supported Voldemort. He wondered what Malfoy would want with Potter. And... would Potter want anything to do with Malfoy? "W-With Weasley."

Malfoy turned on his heel and headed for Potter's compartment, the other two boys following after him. Hermione looked confused. "He didn't have to be rude," she said.

"Let it go," Neville said quietly. "His family's trouble. Come on," he led Hermione back to their compartment. He'd ask one of the teachers to summon Trevor for him when they arrived. And Hermione was right, they had to be arriving soon. It was pretty dark outside now. He opened his trunk, pulling a robe from inside and slipping it on over his uniform. He sat down, thinking. Hermione seemed like a Ravenclaw for sure. But he wasn't sure where Corner would end up, but most likely Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Weasley would be Gryffindor, Malfoy and the other two were likely Slytherins. And Potter... Probably Gryffindor like his parents. So he had yet to meet anyone who would be a Hufflepuff like him. That would mean meeting more people.

A shriek sounded from a few compartments down and Hermione rolled her eyes, getting up to go investigate. She returned in a huff a moment later. "Weasley, Potter, and Malfoy were fighting," she explained to Neville and Michael. "Heaven forbid they behave like they're supposed to!"

Micahel rolled his eyes, but a voice echoed through the train. "_We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately._"

Neville swallowed, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. As the train stopped, he stood, following Hermione and Michael down the aisle. An enormous man stood to the edge, calling for first years. He followed the crowd of first-years toward the man, trying not to look too nervous. "Excuse me," he said quietly. "I've lost my toad." The man scanned the crowd with a smile. "We'll find him for yeh," he said kindly, and Neville realized he was afraid for nothing. The man would be nice about it, at least. He ended up wedged between Hermione and Potter as they walked. He sniffed, thinking about Trevor. Someone could help him he hoped. He couldn't believe he was gone. And then they saw the castle. It was huge and beautiful, a vast contrast to the dark sky above. He gasped, and he wasn't the only one to do so.

They were led to a lake, where several boats waited for them. The man told them to only have four people to a boat, and Corner climbed into a boat with some other people. Neville tried not to be offended. At least Hermione didn't avoid him. They ended up in a boat with Potter and Weasley. After a while, they stopped and got out.

"_Oy, you there! Is this your toad_?" the big man asked, and Neville was immediately relieved.

"_Trevor_!" he called, scooping up the toad and smiling at the man. He felt stupid for fearing the man at first.

They made their way up a flight of stairs to the front door. "_Everyone here_?" The man asked. "_You there, still got yer toad_?" Neville nodded as the man knocked on the door loudly.

* * *

**Lines that have been underlined and italicized are direct quotes belonging to JKR. **


	3. Chapter 3

Neville watched everything with wide eyes. He'd never been inside a room as big as the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall terrified him, even more than Hagrid had at first. She made a speech, little of which Neville actually heard. He was too busy running through his mind everything that could possibly go wrong with the sorting. Before long, the professor left them all, and they began guessing at how the sorting happened. Apparently, he wasn't the only one that didn't know what to expect.

**"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was**** joking."**

Weasley's suggestion terrified him, but Hermione whispering to him about all the spells she'd learned was worse. He hadn't learned any spells, nor had he ever really done any magic. Would they all laugh at him? Or would they be as confused as he was sure to be? Would he be sent home? Or would he be put through tests again, like his uncle used to do? He'd seen the height of the school... If he fell out of a window here, he doubted he'd be able to merely bounce to a stop.

He hadn't even noticed Professor McGonagall return and jumped slightly when she spoke to them. **"Now form a line, and follow me."**

He stepped into line behind Hermione and in front of one of the boys who had been wandering around with Malfoy on the train. He gasped as he entered the hall. The ceiling was rather alarming... he knew there was one, but it looked like there wasn't one at all. **"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in ****_Hogwarts, A History," _**Hermione whispered to him. He nodded once, trying very hard to keep up with her and not trip over his own feet. He could not remember ever feeling this nervous. He would have to do magic, which he couldn't, in front of an entire school of wizards, most of which were probably fully capable of jinxing him into the next century.

They stopped, and Professor McGonagall brought out an old-looking hat. He stared at it, confused. Would they be expected to change its color or something? Or... Levitate it? Or... His thoughts ended abruptly as the hat began to sing.

When it was finished, Professor McGonagall began speaking again. **"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah."**

And she began calling names. He knew a few of the last names, but none really mattered to him. Until... **"Granger, Hermione."**

Hermione ran forward eagerly, and Neville was a bit jealous of her eagerness. He was terrified and felt sick, not eager. He was a bit surprised when Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor. He'd thought Ravenclaw for sure. But he clapped for his friend regardless.

And then he waited a short while longer. Until... "Longbottom, Neville."

He stepped forward, accidentally stepping on the hem of his robe and falling forward. Flushing, he stood up again and sat down on the stool. He jumped slightly as the hat spoke in his mind.

_Interesting. You want to be in Hufflepuff. You're very loyal, yes, and a hard worker... and very kind... But what's this?_

Neville swallowed.

_There's a great deal of courage here, even if you don't see it yet. Bravery beyond what I've seen so far today. You could do well in Gryffindor, you know._

_I'm not brave_, Neville thought back to the hat. _I'm not good enough for Gryffindor. _A flash of his parents entered his mind, but he pushed it down. He wasn't brave like them.

The argument continued a while, and Neville was far too aware of the whispers around the hall. His was the longest sorting yet, he was sure of it.

_Hufflepuff would be a good fit, but you won't reach your full potential there. Trust me, child. It's not for you. You will understand in time. I've never chosen the wrong house for a student. _"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat yelled aloud.

Neville felt sick, but he was glad it was over. He stood and rushed over to the table, not realizing he still wore the hat. Flushing again, he returned the hat to Professor McGonagall. He wanted to sink into the ground and never be seen again. But he dropped into a seat beside Hermione anyway. He was distracted for a while by his own thoughts. What had the hat seen that had made it believe he was brave? He wasn't, he knew he wasn't. But... Maybe he could be if he tried. Maybe this was his chance to make his family proud of him for a change.

**"Potter, Harry!"**

**"_Potter_, did she say?"**

**"_The_ Harry Potter?"**

Neville watched this particular sorting. He'd heard so many stories about Harry Potter, he was certain he'd be a Gryffindor. But at the same time... no one knew how Potter had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Perhaps the Boy Who Lived would be Slytherin. But after a few moments... **"Gryffindor!"**

Neville clapped as the rest of the table burst into screams and applause. The Weasley twins started up a chant, and everyone found it quite funny. Potter was grinning as he sat down beside Neville and across from the Prefect who Neville was fairly certain was also a Weasley. They were joined by a few other Gryffindors, but none of them received the level of applause Potter did, not even the youngest Weasley.

Before long, the feast appeared before them and Neville felt himself relaxing a bit. This was nowhere near as bad as he'd thought it would be. He was with people his own age, and they were all talking. He didn't contribute much, not that he was asked to, as they discussed Houses and Ghosts and the notorious Slytherin rivalry. When dessert was served, they began discussing families. He found out that Seamus Finnigan's parents were a witch and a muggle, which wasn't all that uncommon. Ron Weasley asked him about his family.

**"Well, my gran brought me up, and she's a witch. But the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages."** He didn't use the word Squib, he couldn't bring himself to. He knew that would be his nickname soon enough. He wouldn't hand it to them ahead of time. **My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me..."** He told them the story, unable to stop himself. At least he'd let them hear about how he did magic once. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad when they realized he was fairly useless when it came to magic.

They went on, and they continued talking about families. Apparently, Potter had been raised by relatives as he had been, but it was his muggle aunt and uncle. That wasn't something anyone really knew... they only knew he was living with relatives. The Weasleys were all-magic. Dean Thomas talked about his mum mostly, explaining he didn't know if his father was magic or not. Parvati Patil told them that her parents were both magical, as did Lavender Brown. Eventually, though, Professor Dumbledore stood and gave a speech. Neville frowned at the information about the third-floor corridor. Why would they keep something dangerous enough to kill in a school? But he didn't question it. His gran had a few rooms he wasn't allowed in for that reason. Perhaps it was just something dangerous if misused.

They sang the school song, which was a bit odd but was made entertaining by the Weasley twins, and they stood, following Percy Weasley up several flights of stairs. After a while, they came across Peeves the Poltergeist, who began throwing walking sticks at them. When Percy threatened the poltergeist, though, he swooped over them and dropped the walking sticks on top of Neville's head. Neville sighed, rubbing his head as he and the others followed Percy again.

Finally, they came to a stop in front of a portrait of a large woman in a pink dress. **"Password?"** the woman asked, looking at them expectantly.

**"Caput Draconis****,"** Percy said to the woman, and her portrait swung forward. Neville entered the room and looked around. It was decorated in reds and golds, and the atmosphere was quite welcoming. He smiled slightly as Percy directed them where to go.

He didn't say much as everyone changed for bed. He'd never shared a room before; it was nearly always just him and his gran at home, and he really didn't know anyone his age anyway. But as he crawled into bed, he realized no one else was talking either. Weasley and Potter talked a bit, but the others didn't, opting instead to just go to sleep. Neville laid there awake a while, thinking over what had happened that day. He was at Hogwarts and a Gryffindor. He didn't know what to think about that last bit. He just hoped he could do well in this house, though he knew he wasn't brave like the hat had suggested.

He realized he should write to his gran, but that could wait until the morning. He didn't know where the owlery was anyway, and it was likely past curfew. He wouldn't go out this late for something like that. He guessed he'd have a letter from her in the morning anyway. He'd just use her owl to send a letter. He sat up, digging out a piece of parchment and scribbling out a letter to her.

_Gran,_

_I made it to Hogwarts safely, and you'll never believe it... I was sorted into Gryffindor! I was surprised but happy anyway. I imagine mum and dad would be happy about it as well if they knew. If you see them before Christmas, could you maybe tell them? _

_I met the others in my year already, and they seem nice enough. I'm in the same dormitory with four other boys, which will likely take some getting used to. One of them is Harry Potter, I know you'd find that interesting. He seems nice... he made friends with Ron Weasley already. He's also in my dorm. The others are Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas._

_I'll write again soon, once I can figure out where the owlery is. _

_Love, Neville_

Once he was finished, he put his quill and ink away, leaving the letter on the table to dry. He would bring it to breakfast with him, and when he got the letter he was sure to receive from his grandmother, he would send his. He laid back down, listening to the even breathing of his roommates. He stared up at the canopy for a while before drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
